


You Only Hold Me Up Like This

by Flames_and_Jade



Series: Only One For Me - Peterick OTP Prompts Repository [11]
Category: Bandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Anal Sex, Art Teacher!Patrick, Detective!Pete, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor (hopefully), M/M, Oral Sex, Patrick has a Wok, Smut, a bit of supernatural stuff at the end, cuteness, going to ikea, more that I don't want to put in the tags because it'll ruin the surprise!, nothing crazy?, otp prompt, overprotective!Pete, police shenanigans, putting together furniture, some suspense at the end, stir fry, teacher life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-11-23 09:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11399979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flames_and_Jade/pseuds/Flames_and_Jade
Summary: Pete is a Detective, hyper-aware of all the sick stuff in the world and ready to defend his boyfriend from it. His trusting, adorable boyfriend, Patrick, who teaches Art at the local community college and didn't realize his photos were geotagged or that you shouldn't put your full date of birth on Facebook.OR--Pete is adorably overprotective, Patrick just wants to show the world the awesomeness of decoupage, Andy just wants to catch bad guys, and something isn't quite what it seems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friends!!! The deadline for BBB submission has passed, so that means I can once again start writing things that aren't that 45k word (and growing) pile of crazy!! I really meant to work on one of my other fifteen WIP's (hides in shame for lack of updates) but this OTP prompt just GRABBED me, and then the lovely @Shattered_mirrors_and_lace sent me another one and...I was trapped. It's not my fault!
> 
> BUT--I will do my best to (a) finish this one very soon and (b) actually keep it to a manageable length (maybe 3 chapters) rather than turning it into an epic like I always seem to do. 
> 
> It's based off an OTP prompt, which I'm only going to put half of here because otherwise it'll give it all away :) 
> 
> Person A is a powerful, serious face, you do not wanna get on their bad side  
> Person B is cute, kind, everyone can’t help but like them  
> Person A always wants to warn people to never hurt Person B or else
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!!!! Comments/criticism/ideas are so very welcome!

 

 

“Hey babe, I’m home!!” Pete dropped his gun belt on the table by the door, unfastening the ankle holstered-gun and throwing it, his badge, and his sunglasses into the bowl. Patrick’s voice rang out a bright  _ In here! _ From the direction of the kitchen and Pete headed that way, already smiling at the smells beckoning him. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He slid his arms around Patrick and pressed a soft kiss to his neck, peering over his shoulder to see what was cooking on the stove. 

 

“I dressed up just for you.” Patrick replied, stirring the contents of the wok, and Pete laughed, pulling back for a minute to look at what his boyfriend was wearing--sweatpants and a old, baggy band tee that looked like it may have been his dad’s. 

 

“I can tell and I love it.” He wrapped his arms more firmly around Patrick’s waist, savoring the softness of his body. “Whatcha cookin? And umm…” he gave the stove a second look. “I didn’t know I owned a wok?”

 

Patrick’s laugh was bright and silvery and made him feel like he was pouring jumping under an ice cold waterfall on a hot day. “You don’t. I brought it over with me ‘cause it’s the only way to make a good stir fry.” He reached out and turned off the burner before turning halfway to look at Pete. “Yeah, so cuddling after food? Because I’ll seriously be upset if the veggies lose the crispiness I carted this wok all the way over to preserve.” 

 

Shaking his head, Pete turned him around in his arms until they were facing each other, and was stunned for a split second at how fucking gorgeous he was. “Nope. You’ve got to pay a toll first.” 

 

Petal-pink lips quirked up in a bemused smile. “What are you, an angry bridge-troll?” 

 

“I could be.” Pete leaned in. “Wouldn’t want to chance it, now would you? All I demand is a kiss and then you can go back to your crispy veggies.” With an eye-roll that Pete knew was entirely for show, Patrick leaned in and pressed a soft, perfect kiss to his lips that had him tingling from his scalp down to his toes.

 

“See...you could have just saved your life.” Pete said when Patrick pulled away, releasing him from his embrace. “Better safe than sorry.” 

 

Patrick smirked and moved to grab bowls from the cupboard and Pete flailed his hands around, feeling useless in his own kitchen. “What can I do to help?” He asked and Patrick waved a hand at him.

 

“Just pour us some water and go sit down. I don’t want you accidentally burning the food.” Pete made a pouty face that was wasted on the back of Patrick’s head but did as he was told, sitting down at the little kitchen table and smiling as he told himself for approximately the 3,872 time that he was the luckiest guy in the world. 

 

It had been six months all told since he had met Patrick Stumph, but as he would wax on to his friend Joe until he threatened to punch him if he didn’t stop being gross, it felt like he had known him forever. He had been thinking about asking Patrick to move in with him, but had held off...wondering if that was too fast a move, so this had been a good start, giving him a spare key. Patrick had texted him earlier and asked if he could come over and make dinner that night, and he had been positively  _ vibrating _ with excitement--his boyfriend was a fabulous cook.

 

“Smells amazing.” He sniffed appreciatively as Patrick set down their bowls of stir fry ladled over white rice. 

 

“Thanks.” Patrick grinned as he speared a bite and chewed. “So how was your day?” 

 

They talked about the case he was working--Pete was always careful to leave out names and specifics, and Patrick never pressed for them, content just to know about his thoughts. They laughed when Pete recounted being yelled at by a truly authentic Italian grandmother who took exception to the detective assigned her grandson’s case wearing skinny jeans. 

 

“Oh, so guess what I did?” Patrick asked, continuing on when Pete shrugged with his mouth full of stir fry. “I made a Twitter account. One of the students helped me--I still don’t think I get it, but it’s pretty cool to be able to follow like, Guillermo Del Toro and Billie Joe Armstrong.” 

 

“Welcome to the 21st century, ‘Trick.” Pete deadpanned, before giving him a fond smile. “No, that’s cool...did this student show you how to setup your security settings and stuff?” When Patrick shook his head, he frowned. “Okay, well...let me look at it after dinner, ‘cause you have to be really careful--social media is a gold mine for stalkers and you’d be amazed how much personal--”

 

“I seriously doubt anyone is going to stalk a community college art teacher whose screen name is “MixedMedia4Life.” Patrick made air quotes as he said his handle and Pete shook his head. 

 

“You’d be surprised, babe. The world is a scary place, you have no idea.” 

 

Patrick hummed, rolling his eyes before agreeing that he’d let him look at it, and told him about his art class--he was teaching mixed media and pottery this semester--and moaned about the kid in his class who had decided he was a visionary. 

 

“Like seriously...he might be the next Jackson Pollock or Picasso, but he won’t  _ listen. _ He was trying to do a collage project but ignored me when I told him he had the glue proportions off, so everything like melted off the canvas because it was too watery. He threw a  _ huge _ fit and went on a rant about why  _ genius shouldn’t have to be constrained by physicality.”  _ Pete was in stitches laughing and Patrick shook his head. “Seriously, that was a direct quote. I don’t know where kids these days get this stuff but it’s messing with my syllabus flow.” 

 

Getting a hold of himself, Pete stood and picked up their empty dishes, depositing them in the sink before returning to pull Patrick up from the table. “You want to watch that episode of Game of Thrones I saved while we digest, or is that too  _ constrained by physicality  _ for you?” 

 

Patrick’s eyes sparkled. “Nope. That sounds just perfect. I’m just an art teacher who clearly lacks vision, so I’m free to enjoy the uninspired things in life” 

 

“Perfect.” 

 

~//~

 

Getting out the door had been a massive challenge the next morning. Firstly because of how pleasantly sore he was in all the best places, secondly because he had woken up to Patrick curled around him, morning wood pressed deliciously to his ass and, come on...Pete’s a giver. He couldn't just let that go to waste. Thirdly was because, after he had finally crawled from bed on shaky legs covered in a variety of fluids and showered, he had to walk  _ back  _ by his bed where Patrick was adorably cuddling his pillow, fast asleep like an angel. He had wanted to say  _ fuck it _ and call into work sick, but his conscience got the better of him...there would be time to play hooky another day. Preferably one where Patrick didn’t have a noon class and they could stay in bed all day long.

 

He grabbed his gear from the entry table where he had left it the night before and shut the door quietly, smiling as he locked it.  _ I like this whole Patrick-has-a-key thing  _ he thought as he pulled out his phone to text his sleeping boyfriend. 

 

_ <<bagels r n th frdg n I left u sum coffee n th pot>> _

 

Traffic was light--a pleasant surprise--and he pulled into the station five minutes early.  _ Look at you, such a fucking adult, _ he congratulated himself as he grabbed his thermos and walked in. He wound his way up to the second floor and when he rounded the corner to his desk he saw…

 

Boots? 

 

“Ummm…” He tilted his head to the side. “Can I help you?” 

 

The woman pulled her feet back and stood. “You Wentz?”

 

“Guilty as charged.” He replied, sizing her up--same height he was, a stocky build that bespoke large bones rather than weight, no makeup and hair pulled up into a tight bun. “And you are?” 

 

“Evangeline Cortez.” She stuck her hand out and he shook it. “You can call me Eva though. I work over out of the 54th precinct, and since yesterday’s body was found there, they want us to work together.”

 

Pete groaned inwardly...he hated working with anyone who wasn’t his partner Andy, but he knew he’d have to put on a brave face. Plus, chances were she didn’t want to be here working with him anymore than he did. “Cool. Let me get you the files and we’ll get started.” 

 

~//~

 

Turned out, Eva wasn’t actually that bad. She had a no-nonsense, no-frills attitude that he found easy to work with, since it balanced out his own brand of ridiculous flamboyance, and a sharp mind for details. Just before lunch, Andy came over from where he had been holed up cross-referencing the victim’s various schedules and joined them. 

 

“Hey so are you and Patrick down for Guardians of the Galaxy on Saturday?” 

 

“Yeah, totally.” Pete looked up, grinning. “I think he’ll just be happy to see it just so that he’ll finally know what I’ve been yammering about for the last month.” He shook his head. “I seriously don’t understand what he did with his childhood other than read comics. Like, what else do teenagers do but read comics and masturbate? Seriously?” Andy laughed and shrugged. 

 

“Different strokes for different folks, I guess. You guys want to get dinner before?” 

 

“Sounds good--our only other plan for the day is to go to Ikea. I told him he has to grow up and get some furniture some time and Saturday's the day. Eva, you want to come?”

 

She gave him a look. “To Ikea? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

 

“No, to dinner and the movie, but good one.” Pete grinned and she gave him a smirk.

 

“Yeah, maybe.” She crooked her head. “So I’m guessing Patrick is your boyfriend?” 

 

“Here we go…”Andy muttered, and before Pete could say anything he stood. “Let’s head down to the taco truck around the corner, because now you’re doomed to The Neverending Story and it’s lunchtime.” 

 

“Hey, fuck you, our romance is way more Princess Bride-like.” Pete laughed, but they all started walking downstairs as he prattled.

  
“Yeah so, Patrick was a witnness to a robbery like...six months ago? And I did his interview and just couldn’t get him out of my head. Like, dude, you should see him--gorgeous pale skin, lips like a fucking--”

 

“Why don’t you just show her a picture?” Andy drawled and Pete nodded, digging out his phone and holding it out to Eva as he talked.

 

“--Yeah, okay well anyways, he’s fucking gorgeous and I just like  _ knew _ I had to see him again. So naturally like all great detectives, I used my mad skills to track him down, ‘cause I’m basically a human bloodhound.”

 

“What he means is, he ran Patrick’s driver’s license and employment history and found where he worked like a stalker.” Andy interjected, and Pete waved a hand. 

 

“Yeah, exactly. Mad skills.” Eva snorted and Andy rolled his eyes. “So yeah, turned out he was an art teacher at a local community college....so there went my inspired plan to like start getting coffee at his coffee store every day. So I went and tried to pass it off like I was doing inspections or something, and he totally called my bluff and I admitted the whole thing and he laughed and asked me out instead.” He finished with a dreamy look in his eyes as they exited the building into the sunshine. 

 

“Sounds like my kinda guy.” Eva replied and Pete looked at her over the rim of his sunglasses.

 

“He is, but he’s mine and I swear to God if you so much as--” 

 

“Whoa, whoa.” Eva held her hands up just as Andy shook his head. “All I meant is that he’s a no-bullshit kinda dude. No guy is my kinda guy, alright?” She held up her left hand. “My girlfriend and I have been together since high school and we’re getting married in July.” 

 

“Oh!” Pete smiled brightly. “Perfect!”

 

“He does that to everyone, just so you know.” Andy interjected, slapping Pete playfully on the back of the head. “You should have seen him when he brought Patrick to the department potluck. I’m pretty sure he physically hissed once or twice.” 

 

Eva chuckled at that and Pete just gave them both a superior look. “Whatever. I wasn’t good at sharing as a kid so why should I start now?” 

 

~//~

 

“Babe, it’s not safe for you to be on campus when it’s closed. You should let me give you a police escort home. I’ll turn the lights on and everything.” Pete said as he pressed the phone to his face as he kicked off his shoes and started taking his “detective toolkit” as he called it off. 

 

“I’m fine.” Patrick’s voice was honey-warm even though his phone, and it made Pete’s insides melt. “Seriously. I have  _ both _ the things of pepper spray you gave me in case someone decides to come rob the glamorous art department. I just have to finish getting these pieces out of the kiln and the next batch in and then I’ll be over.” 

 

“But I’m gonna be bored…” Pete knew he sounded whiny and didn’t care. 

 

“I’m sure you can figure something out until I get there. You’re a thirty-three year old adult, play video games or watch porn or something.” 

 

“I don’t want Biggus Dickicus and Blondie Big Boobs, I want you.” Pete argued and he was rewarded with a satisfied huff from the other side of the phone. 

 

“Fine, just don’t burn your apartment down until I get there and we’ll make our own porn, alright?” 

 

“Deal.” Pete smiled as they hung up and looked around the apartment, deciding to take a shower to relax. An evil grin slid across his lips as an idea came to him, and he scampered off towards the master bedroom, congratulating himself for being fucking brilliant.

 

He couldn’t help the tingling wave of excitement that rolled through him an hour and a half  later when he heard Patrick’s key in the lock. He’d been looking forward to tonight all week--they had planned that he would spend the night with Pete so they could have a lazy saturday morning before going to Ikea.  _ We’re practically an old married couple, just with mind-blowing sex _ he thought and wiggled, positioning himself perfectly. 

 

“Hello?” Patrick’s voice rang out in the entryway and Pete took a deep breath as he heard him set his stuff down by the door. 

 

“In here.” He answered, and he could hear Patrick talking from his spot on the couch. 

 

“Three of the pieces exploded in the kiln  _ just like I told them _ they would, students never listen when I tell them not to work air into-- _ oh my God.”  _ Patrick’s ramblings cut off as he rounded the corner and saw him, and Pete couldn’t help but preen a bit. He was laying naked on the couch, head on one of the weird throw pillows that his sister had made for him, with his Star Wars hardback placed strategically over his junk. Patrick’s eyes slid over him, and Pete smirked as he went for it. 

 

“Let me just finish this chapter…” He reached down and picked up the book so his rock-hard cock was on display and he swore he heard Patrick’s breath hitch. With affected nonchalance, he brought the book up to hold with both hands. “This chapter has been really  _ hard _ to get through, it’s just so  _ long  _ and  _ thick _ \--” Before he could finish, Patrick was crawling on top of him, knocking the book out of his hands with a growl. 

 

“ _ Fucker.”  _ He breathed as his mouth crashed down to his and Pete moaned, sliding his hands under his shirt, bunching it and his cardigan under his arms as he tried to push it off. “Such a brat--” Patrick gasped as he pulled away just long enough to let Pete push them up over his head. “--Such a fucking  _ hot _ little  _ shit _ .” Pete hummed happily into his mouth as he set to work on Patrick’s belt and fly, drinking his shuddering groan when he slipped a hand inside to stroke his rapidly-hardening cock. He rutted into Pete’s hand for a few seconds, tongues dueling and lips moving in a fight that they both were winning. But then he pulled back and stood, shucking his pants off and crawling between Pete’s legs, nuzzling at his balls before sucking him down. 

 

“ _ Shit  _ babe--” Pete gasped, trying to not thrust into that perfect wet heat as Patrick bobbed down, bringing his hand up to stroke him in time with his mouth. Sucking exquisitely, Patrick licked and swirled at him and Pete groaned louder when he looked down to see his lips wrapped spit-slick and  _ gorgeous _ around his cock. Spreading his legs as far as he could on the couch, he hoped Patrick would get the idea...and he did, bringing one hand off Pete’s hip to trail down his groin, under his balls and down…

 

_ “Ngghhphh.”  _ Patrick pulled off with an obscene sound, eyes snapping open as his searching fingers touched hard silicone and he asked breathlessly, “Pete, is that--”

 

“Yeah.” He sighed, thrilled that Patrick had gotten there on his own and felt electricity skitter down his spine as he took in his boyfriend’s slack-jawed face. “You said to watch porn, but all I wanted was you so I figured I’d get  _ ready _ .” 

 

_ “Fuck. _ ” Patrick sat back to look at the way the flared base of the dark blue plug looked snugged against his entrance, licking his lips unconsciously. That made a dart of heat spike straight to Pete’s dick, and he made a needy noise in the back of his throat. Looking up at him with a look that was still slightly-awestruck but rapidly getting more diabolical, Patrick reached down and slowly pulled the plug out just a bit before letting it sink back into Pete’s body. He threw his head back and groaned when Patrick  _ pushed _ it in, angling it up so it brushed his prostate. “So hot...what do you want?” His voice was a bit more ragged than usual, breathy, and it sent another spike of desire shooting through Pete. Fingers danced around the base of the plug, pulling it out and letting it sink back in, and he gasped. 

 

“You.” He arched his back when Patrick’s fingers wrapped around it again, pulling it all the way out before working it back in with tantalizingly slow precision.

 

“You sure? Seems like you’re doing okay here without me.” Patrick’s tone was playful, forestalling any concern that he was upset, but Pete shook his head vehemently just in case. 

 

“Nooo.” He whined pitifully, hips chasing the plug as Patrick played with it. “Wanted you all night…” Licking his lips, he gasped as the toy grazed the place that cried out for attention. “Trick,  _ please _ , I’m all slicked up and open  _ just for you _ …” 

 

With a groan, Patrick pulled the toy out and dropped it to the floor, bringing Pete’s legs up to rest on his shoulders. Looking down, Pete saw his boyfriend’s cock blood-dark and hard and his mouth watered--Patrick was fucking  _ hung _ for a short guy and he  _ loved it _ . He wanted the stretch and the burn and the exquisite feeling of being filled and torn apart in the best way, and he nodded eagerly as he felt Patrick brush his entrance. 

 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Patrick murmured as he leaned forward, capturing Pete’s mouth again as he slowly pressed in, centimeter by centimeter. Pete arched into it, the stretch just shy of too much and not enough all at once and he just let it flow through him until Patrick was buried deep. “You okay?” Patrick asked, blown blue eyes inches from his own full of heat and concern and things that made Pete feel like he was going to explode and melt all at the same time. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, please--”

 

Patrick pulled out and thrust and Pete couldn’t help the moan that fell from his lips, back arching and head falling back as Patrick started taking him apart. He thrust deeper with each movement, ratcheting up like Pete was a wave lapping against the shore as he bit at his neck, his collarbone, pressed searing kisses to his lips. Pete wound his hands into his fine red-blonde hair as Patrick buried his face in his neck and started murmuring in his ear things that Pete would have never believed could come out of someone so angelic six months prior. 

 

“So hot, Pete, so fucking hot, you have no idea.” Pete groaned between biting, sucking kisses as his hand snaked between them to run the length of Pete’s cock.. “You’re such a tease, such a fucking tease ‘cause you want it, don’t you. You’ve been thinking about this  _ all day _ , half-hard at work thinking about me fucking you--”

 

“ _ Jesusfuck  _ Trick _ ,  _ I--I’m--” 

 

“You’re what?” Patrick was gasping now, words coming out breathless and hungry. “You gonna come? ‘Cause I am. I’m--”  _ gasp, “ _ \--gonna fuck you ‘till you do, gonna  _ fill you up _ \--”

 

With a shout Pete came, arching his back and crying Patrick’s name as the pleasure rolled through him like a concussive blast. All he could do was feel it thundering through him as he shot hot and endlessly between their bodies, Patrick’s hips stuttering as he thrust once, twice and came with his name on his lips, groaned out like a prayer.

 

Pete was pretty sure that the earth could stop rotating and the polar ice caps could melt and he wouldn’t care...they lay there, sticky and glistening with sweat and fucking  _ perfect.  _ He brought a shaky hand up to caress the soft skin between Patrick’s shoulder blades and was rewarded with a tiny shudder. 

 

“Mmmmm…” Patrick nuzzled his face against Pete’s neck, lips pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, and sighed. “So good. Happy weekend.” 

 

“Damn right it is.” Finding his body was working again, Pete wrapped his arms tight around Patrick and squeezed. “The best weekend...I get to spend all night with you, wake up with you, shower with you, and then take you to the wonderland that is Ikea, and then  _ OHMYGODGUARDIANSOFTHEGALAXY!!!!! _ ” 

A grumbling noise sounded deep in Patrick’s chest as he peered up. “How about we skip wonderland and stay in bed all day?” 

 

“Get the behind me, satan.” Pete laughed and Patrick rolled his eyes. “You can’t talk me out of this. We are getting you furniture like a normal human being does, stuff that you didn’t find in the dumpster.” 

 

Patrick grumbled again but laid his head back down and Pete smiled. No harm in waiting five  more minutes to shower.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a buzzfeed article about tweets sent out during a shopping trip to Ikea and an OTP prompt from the lovely @shattered_mirrors_and_lace! I just wanted to put a dose of cuteness and (hopefully) humor before the excitement happens!!

 

“I can already feel a panic attack coming on.” Patrick groused as they went through the swooshing double doors into the expansive entrance area. Giving him a look, Pete just took his hand and pulled him towards the escalator.

 

“You’ll be fine, I promise. Nobody’s ever died in Ikea that I know about.” He couldn’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss that Patrick tried to bat away, leaving them slapping at each other until they tumbled off the escalator laughing. Holding out an expansive hand, he grinned at his wide-eyed boyfriend. “Welcome to Swedish Wonderland!”

 

“ _ Fuck me…”  _ Patrick breathed under his breath in a defeated tone as he surveyed the huge labyrinth of showrooms stretching out before them. 

 

Pete couldn’t hold back a cackle. “Wait ‘till we get to the mattress section for that, okay?” 

 

“You know, I really hate you sometimes.” 

 

~//~

 

“Seriously, what is wrong with this cart? How can all the wheels move a different way at the same time?” Patrick groused as the wound through the kitchen isles. Shrugging, Pete continued pondering the rack of cutting boards. 

 

“Dunno, so what kind do you want? The bamboo ones are nice but these white ones are very  _ clean _ …”

 

“No, these.” Patrick reached out and grabbed a three-pack of thin, flexible cutting boards. “They’re the easiest to sanitize.” Dropping them into the cart, he gave his boyfriend a sideways look. “Why are you advising me on kitchen stuff anyways? You can’t even boil water.” 

 

“Hey!” Pete glared halfheartedly and then smirked. “Tell you what, next thing you get is what we’re naming our firstborn.” Hand freezing in the air as he put a glass pitcher into the cart, Patrick looked at the item tag and shook his head, sighing as Pete cracked up. 

 

“ _ Farlig _ ! That’s perfect, we’re set whether we have a boy or a girl!!” Hating himself, Patrick picked up a four-pack of wine glasses and Pete had to grab the rack as he couldn't contain his laughter. “ _ Hederlig _ , huh? I think that’s definitely more of a girl’s name, but I agree, we should be ready for twins!” 

 

Choking a bit at that, Patrick gave him a look that seemed more resigned than anything else...that is, in Pete’s professional opinion.

 

~//~

 

“Mmmmmm…” Pete flopped down on the bed, nestling his face into the pillows with a sigh. “You should definitely get this one. And look!” He popped his head up from to give Patrick a wide grin, who was currently standing at the end of the bed with his arms crossed and glaring at him like an angry babysitter. “The headboard is perfect, we can loop the handcuffs through here.” He pointed and Patrick sputtered, running around the bed like it was on fire and yanking Pete off. 

 

“There are  _ children here _ !” He looked around frantically, hoping the little girl jumping two beds over hadn’t heard. 

 

“You’re right. We’re behind the times...we  _ should _ start making a kid  _ right now _ .” Pete pulled him down, squirming and protesting to the bed, giggling maniacally. 

 

“ _ Pete!”  _ Patrick huffed, glaring at him in a way that should have been terrifying but was just ending up as adorable. “If I buy this bed, can you _ please _ wait ‘till we get it back to my apartment to start christening it?” 

 

Giving him an appraising look, Pete nodded. “Deal.” Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, he jumped up and held up a hand. “Now get up, Pattycakes, we’ve got like...two more floors to look through!” 

 

~//~

 

Finally reaching the end of the carefully-curated showrooms, Patrick moaned as his stomach rumbled. “I’m  _ starving,  _ Pete. We’ve been here for like...fifteen years.” 

 

“Three hours, actually, but who’s counting?” Pete corrected him, and then ducked his head at the shocked look on Patrick’s face.

 

“ _ Three hours?  _ How is that possible?”

 

“I’m telling you. Ikea makes time warp, it’s an actual phenomenon.” He jerked his head to the side. “ _ Ooohhh  _ let’s go get meatballs! They’re so good!” 

 

“What? Why in the world would I want  _ meatballs  _ from a  _ furniture store? _ ” Patrick gave him an incredulous look. “Why does this furniture store even  _ sell food? _ ” 

  
  


“Umm…’cause they’re delicious?” Pete pulled him towards the elevator. “C’mon, plus they have like this berry stuff that’s super awesome, and  _ ohmygod _ the cinnamon rolls are so good!”

 

“I really just want to go get the stuff on our list and go home.” Patrick huffed as they headed down. He waved the paper in front of Pete’s face. “Hello? Pete? List?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He took the paper and squinted at it. “Let’s just go eat first and then we’ll go wrangle ourselves a  _ Hemnes _ and a  _ Knislinge _ and a  _ Trysil _ and go home.” 

 

~//~

 

Two hours later--after wandering isles containing maddeningly large number of identical brown cardboard boxes and trying to pronounce the names of what they wanted to employees who  _ also _ didn’t speak a lick of Swedish--they were lugging their boxes up the stairs to Patrick’s second-floor apartment. 

 

Setting them down, Pete sat down against the front door and breathed heavily. His boyfriend came back with two beers, handing him one and sitting down heavily next to him. “Can I convince you to just take a nap instead of putting together that God-awful furniture?” 

 

“Nope.” Pete took a long swig from his beer and then fixed Patrick with a salacious grin, wiggling his eyebrows comically. “But we can put the bed together first so we can  _ christen  _ it like you promised.” 

 

Patrick’s sigh was longsuffering and, Pete knew, mostly for show. “Fine. But it’s not my fault if you hate me by the time we’re done with this.” 

 

_ Another _ two hours later, they lifted his mattress and settled it on the bed frame. Patrick winced as Pete threw himself down on the bed, eyes squinted shut...but after a moment of silence punctuated by a distinct lack of the bed frame collapsing, he let out a cheer.

 

“Look! We did it! Told you we didn’t need those last three screws.” 

 

Crawling on the bed like it was a flimsy piece of wood floating on tempestuous seas, Patrick gave him a dubious glance. “I don’t know...I mean, if we didn’t need them, they wouldn't have put them in the box.” He laid down next to Pete gingerly, like he was afraid it would tumble out from underneath them if he moved too quickly. 

 

“Mmmm…” A mischievous glint was in Pete’s eye as he rolled over, straddling Patrick’s hips. “Well, because I’m a fucking brilliant Super-genius I know exactly how we can test it’s structural integrity.” He rolled his hips suggestively before coming down to bracket Patrick’s grinning face with his hands. “You know...for  _ science.”  _

 

“Oh for  _ science.” _ Patrick laughed, hands coming up to bury into Pete’s hair, pulling him down so their noses were almost touching. “Well in that case,” he whispered, pressing playful biting kisses to his lips, “we’d better be  _ extra thorough.”  _

 

~//~

  
  


Pete was  _ buzzing _ from the movie, vehemently arguing with Andy over what the ending scene meant in the larger MCU, and if they would include the inhumans in the character arc. Patrick rolled his eyes and shrugged at Eva as he pushed them to the left of the theater. 

 

“Come on, you dorks. I need a beer if we’re going to devolve into this level of nerdom.” 

 

They went into a small bar that boasted  _ BEER! DARTS! POOL! FOOD!  _ And sat down at a table near the back. Andy crinkled his nose as Pete dragged him off to get them a round of three beers and a sprite, plus fries, and Patrick smiled at Eva. “So, you’re working with Pete and Andy now? It’s nice to have someone  _ normal _ around when they’re knee deep in nerd.” 

 

She laughed at that and nodded. “Yeah, they have us working on the case since it’s starting to bleed into my sector. They’re way better than I was expecting to be honest, but Pete sure is a character.” 

 

“That’s putting it lightly.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “I apologize that you probably had to listen to the  _ Immortal Love Story Of The Ages.”  _ He made air quotes to emphasize it along with a slightly stodgy-looking face. 

 

“You’re fine, it’s cool to see how much he cares, not many people do nowadays it seems.” Patrick nodded as Pete and Andy returned with sweet potato fries and cheese curds in addition to drinks. 

 

“What did we miss?” He asked, bouncing into his chair. 

 

“Everything. Eva and I were talking about non-imaginary things, it was great.” Patrick deadpanned, and Pete rolled his eyes.

  
“Whatever, you just don’t understand because you lived in a cupboard as a child.” Pete stuck out his tongue. “ _ Anyways _ , it’s totally obvious that they’re gonna make a second one, ‘cause they gotta explain how Quill could hold an infinity stone--” Patrick rolled his eyes and scooted his chair over so he could talk to Eva over the blaring music and the drone of  _ nerd.  _ He asked about her fiance, and privately thought it was pretty striking how her face lit up, losing some of its severity, and her thin lips curved into a smile at the thought of her. He wondered if that’s how he looked when he talked about Pete. 

 

A while later, they had laid off the geek-speak and were laughing at a story Eva was telling about a can of shaving cream, a box of donuts and a rolling chair. Then they started arguing about the best tactical gear, and Patrick popped a cheese-curd in his mouth before standing. “I’m gonna go get another round.” He grabbed the bottles and Andy’s glass, figuring he’d take them to the bar so the staff wouldn’t have as much to clean up later. Pete held out his face, puckering his lips ridiculously like he was going on a long journey, and Patrick rolled his eyes before letting him press a quick peck to his cheek. Andy predictably groused at the PDA in his un-angry way, and as he walked away Patrick could hear the beginnings of a lewd statement from his boyfriend. 

 

Putting the bottles on the bar, the bartender came over and grinned. “Thanks for bringing those back, dude, I’m sure Jenny’ll love you forever for it.” 

 

“No problem. Can we get three Shock Top’s and another sprite?” With an affirmative nod, the burly man moved to get their drinks and Patrick considered the various photos framed behind the kegs--some pretty exciting people had apparently come here and apparently the nachos were legendary. He made a mental note to order them next time they were here as he checked into the bar on Facebook, tagging Pete and Andy because his students told him this was what cool people did nowadays. He didn’t get it, but figured it wouldn't hurt to at least know what they were talking about. Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he took the beers and handed back a twenty, telling him to keep the change with a smile.

 

“What’d you get us?” Eva asked as he set the drinks down. 

 

“Shock Top.” 

 

“You have good taste, art-boy.” She replied and Pete crowed with laughter as Patrick made a face before squirting more Ketchup in the basket. A dinging noise sounded, and he saw Pete pull his phone from his pocket and frown at it. 

 

“You checked us in?” 

 

“Yeah.” Patrick dipped his fry in the condiment and stuffed it in his mouth. “Apparently it’s the cool thing to do.” 

 

“Babe, you shouldn’t do that--it’s dangerous. You don’t want to broadcast to the world where you are, and look you didn’t even make the post private--”

 

“I seriously doubt someone is going to see that and think it’s the perfect opportunity to come rob the  _ art-boy.”  _ He rolled his eyes, swiping up more Ketchup with another handful of fries, and started to put them in his mouth, freezing as a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. 

 

“Heyyyyy there sexy.” A middle-aged woman wearing a shirt entirely too low-cut for propriety   _ oozed _ drunkenly against him, head lolling against his shoulder as she grinned up at him. “You wanna come home with me ‘n Bill? Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be alone...” Pete jumped from his chair and started to pry her off, brows lowered dangerously. 

 

“Hey! Get your hands off him, Patrick is  _ not _ alone, he’s--”

 

“Lorna.” A man who Patrick could only assume was the Bill in question came up and pulled the woman off him, giving them both an apologetic look. “Sorry about that.” He ushered her away from the table, and Pete scooted his chair closer to his boyfriend while he grumbled under his breath. 

 

“Did she hurt you, are you okay?” 

 

Patrick gave him an incredulous look. “I don’t think she could have stood on her own much less hurt me. I’m fine, Romeo, now drink your beer.” He reached for Pete’s hand under the table and squeezed, ignoring the dark look Pete was giving the retreating couple. 

 

“I swear,  _ people _ coming up to  _ my boyfriend  _ like that.” Glowering, he wrapped his arm around Patrick’s neck and nuzzled, pressing a kiss there and murmuring something that sounded like  _ mine _ . He jerked away when Andy threw a handful of fries at him. 

 

“Quit it, otherwise you’re gonna end up peeing on him to establish dominance or something.” Eva laughed at that, holding out her bottle to toast Andy in approval as Pete waggled his eyebrows and Patrick stuttered. 

 

“Nah, we’re not into watersports, but we have this drawer full of--”

 

“Shut  _ up _ , Pete!” Patrick elbowed him and shook his head at Eva. “Sorry...he’s a bit of an oversharer.” 

 

“And I told you it wasn’t just you with the overprotective thing.” Andy smirked at her, and Pete looked comically aghast.

 

“Ummm guys, look at this paragon of perfection, of  _ course _ I’m overprotective. Look at those  _ lips _ and those  _ curves--”  _

 

The half of the table he wasn’t dating groaned and made hacking noises, and Patrick let lose a glare he usually saved for truly  _ obnoxious _ students as he smacked his boyfriend on the back of the head. “You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up.” Pete shut his lips and mimed zipping them shut but started making ridiculous moon-eyes, and he shook his head.  “God, please just go back to your nerd-circle jerk.”

 

“HA! It worked!” Laughing, Pete started gesturing with his hands to Andy. “So, it’s  _ totally obvious _ that the Infinity War is gonna--”

 

Later, when they were walking to the car hand-in-hand after saying goodnight to their  companions, Pete leaned close. “Hey, ‘m sorry about the protective stuff, but I just...you’re always so…” He waved his hand expressively and Patrick shook his head, smiling. 

 

“Accommodating? Willing to put up with your bullshit?” 

 

“That. And also adorably innocent to the evils in this world.” Pete laid his head on Patrick’s shoulder and whispered into his ear conspiratorially, pitching his voice high. “So  _ heyyyy sexy. You wanna come home with me? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be alone _ …” 

  
“You’re ridiculous.” Patrick laughed, pushing Pete away and towards the car door, already planning how to spend their time  _ not being alone _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OTP Ikea Prompt:
> 
> **Person A, lying seductively in bed:** I'm gonna choose a random tag and whatever unfathomable word is on it, I'm gonna name our kid that.  
>  **Person B:** P L E A S E S T O P


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lazy Sunday mornings and terror at the coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this little dose of silliness, friends! This is the last real chapter, but there'll be a tiny bit more after the end! <3

 

“You know...the adult thing to do would be to actually  _ get out of bed _ .” Patrick mused Sunday morning as he looked at his boyfriend over his iPad, grinning at his glorious state of what could only be described as his  _ afro bedhead _ .

 

“Nope.” Pete’s voice was absent as he furrowed his brow in concentration at his phone, thumbs twitching over the screen spastically. “Illinois statute prohibits boyfriends from getting out of bed before 1pm when one of them is super hot and the other is on a fuckin’ insane winning streak on Angry Birds.” He gave Patrick a quick wink before gluing his eyes back to the screen. “By the way, you’re the hot one in this scenario in case you didn’t pick up on that.” 

 

“Mmmm.” Punctuating the acknowledgement with a healthy dose of skepticism, Patrick settled back against Pete’s side and resumed scrolling through the schedule of exhibits at the Art Institute. “Well, you’re the Law Enforcement Officer in this relationship, so I’ll defer to you on that.” They remained in peace for a while, each enjoying their pursuits with Pete making absent appreciative noises as Patrick flapped his hands in excitement over the native Java Batik Textiles exhibit coming the following month, yammering for a while about  _ wax relief work _ and how modern Tie-dye could be related back into prehistoric dying techniques. 

 

Punching the air in triumph fifteen minutes later, Pete bounced gently on the bed as he held up his phone and did a close approximation of a rooster crowing. “I fuckin’ beat level 48! I’ve got the fourth-highest score  _ in the state!”  _ He ignored Patrick’s noise of derision and held the phone up in the air, opening up the camera. “Selfie time!!” 

 

“Dude, seriously!?” Patrick tried to argue, but was merely pestered and poked until he relented with a sign and half-glared, half-smiled up at the camera next to Pete’s open-mouthed look of conquest. 

 

“Perfect.” Nestling down so his head was resting on Patrick’s lap, he hummed absently as gentle fingers slipped through his hair. A  _ ding!  _ punctuated the silence as the notification popped up on Patrick’s iPad and a moment later he made a noise somewhere between disgust and amused futility.

 

“I should _ totally _ break up with you considering you’re a goddamn adult and your caption contains the word  _ bae. _ ” 

 

“You’re just jealous that I know all the cool-kid lingo.” Pete sat up and pointed. “But no seriously, see how when you tap it, it doesn’t say where we are? That’s cause I turned off location services. Otherwise someone could just look at this picture and figure out the exact location of your bed.” 

 

“Why in the world would anyone but you  _ care _ where my bed is?” Patrick groused as Pete pulled the tablet from his hands and crawled on top of him. 

 

“Weren’t you listening earlier about you being super-hot?” Pete grinned down at him. “Plus, it’s just a safety thing babe, you gotta be careful with all this technology floating around.” 

 

“Mmmm...well, if anyone tries to come cuddle me to death because of a photo, I’ll be sure to let you say  _ I told you so.”  _ The last few words came out breathy, ending with a moan as Pete started pressing biting kisses to his neck, working down his collarbone before slithering down under the covers, hands roaming as he went. “What--”

 

“I’m still hungry.” His voice was muffled and Patrick threw back the covers to reveal Pete grinning mischievously from where he was working the pajama pants down his pale hips. “That weird alfalfa hippy-bread you had didn’t make good toast.” 

 

“It’s  _ sprouted wheat _ , and it’s--” Patrick gasped out as Pete swallowed him down, hands darting down to weave into his hair, trying to thrust gently as a tongue lapped in all the right places. “--high in protein.” Humming, Pete pulled off to press a biting kiss to the indentation of his groin, Patrick’s yelp almost drowning out his laughing observation.

 

“You know what else is  _ high in protein _ ...” 

 

~//~

 

“Tuesdays are the worst.” Pete groused as he propped his feet up on his desk and started to unwrap his lunch. “Like seriously, everyone complains about Mondays, but I think Tuesdays are the real criminals.” Andy just shrugged and opened his tupperware full of neatly chopped and portioned vegetables and crunched on a cucumber slice. 

 

“Homemade hummus?” He held out a smaller container and Pete shook his head, wrinkling his nose. 

  
“No thanks. I remember what happened last time I ate your magic vegan stuff, and I don’t ever want to be that acquainted with a toilet ever again.” 

 

“Uhh...Detective Wentz?” 

 

Looking up from his mouthful of hoagie, Pete craned his neck around to search for the source of the voice. It didn’t sound like his Sergeant getting ready to yell at him for putting his feet up on his desk, and sure enough it was the Uniformed officer that had been helping him cross-reference the victim’s credit card transactions the day before.  _ Score one for the super detective _ . “Yeah?” 

 

“Doesn’t your boyfriend teach at SAIC?” 

 

“Mmmhmmm.” Pete swallowed and took another bite. “He’s the prettiest, art-iest Art professor in the world. Why?”

 

“Look.” 

 

Turning his head, Pete followed the detectives pointing finger to the flat-screen on the far wall that was always tuned to WGN-TV. His boots slammed to the floor with a loud _thunk!_ as he dug his phone out of his pocket with shaking hands, flicking over to the “Find My Friends” app that he had made Patrick install when they started dating. The little blue dot blinked benignly at him from the SAIC campus coffee house and he felt his heart drop to his toes.

 

“ _ FUCK!” _

 

~//~

 

He felt like his heart was going to hammer out of his chest as he leapt from the car before Andy came to what could be loosely-qualified as a stop. He pulled his badge out as he ducked under the yellow police tape and ran over to the Captain barking orders to the disembarking SWAT team. 

 

“You have to let me help,  _ please _ .” He could hear the desperation in his voice but didn’t care, didn’t care about anything except  _ getting in there _ . 

 

“And who are you?” The man’s mustache was truly impressive and some distant part of his mind that wasn’t currently screaming in fear wondered if that was a prerequisite for promotion. 

 

“Sir, Detectives Wentz and Hurley, 19th Precinct.” Andy magically showed up and practically pulled Pete from the Captain, oozing calm and professionalism. “What’s the situation?”

 

“Awfully far from home, aren’t you, boys?” The Captain gave a doubtful look to Pete but shook his head. “Suspect is a male in his late twenties from what we can tell through the windows, he’s got somewhere around ten hostages in there. Looks to be armed with a rifle, though we can’t tell for sure. Hostage negotiator isn’t here yet so we haven't made contact.” 

 

“You have to let me in there, _please_ , I can--” Before Pete could say anything else to dig himself into a hole, the front door opened and the hostages started running out, screaming and crying. The Captain began barking orders, SWAT moving forward, but all Pete could see was the flash of pale skin as Patrick-- _his fucking_ _Patrick!--_ briefly looked over the gathered police, saw Pete and gave him a tiny smile before shutting the door behind him. “That’s him, Andy did you see that? He shut the door, why would he--”

 

“You know him?” The Captain was giving him a stern look now, sizing him up anew.

 

“He’s my boyfriend, oh my God why didn’t he come out--” He started scuffing one foot after another repeatedly, clenching his hands as he felt a full-blown panic attack coming on...

 

“ _ PETE.”  _ Andy’s voice was stern as he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him slightly. “ _ Your phone.”  _

 

Looking down, Pete registered for the first time that his phone was blaring  _ Your Sex is On Fire _ and Patrick’s smiling face was looking out at him from it’s buzzing surface. “Hello? Patrick?”

 

“Pete, hey…” Patrick’s voice sounded disturbingly calm, but before he could ponder it further he was speaking again. “Can you--can you guys come in here? It’s okay now.” 

 

“ _ What THE FUCK does IT’S OKAY NOW MEAN!?”  _ Pete almost screamed into the phone before Andy took it and handed it to the Captain, who listened intently and then handed it back, motioning for the SWAT team to breach.

 

~//~

 

Several hours, more interviews than he thought were strictly necessary, and no closer to understanding what had happened then before, Patrick was released with a grudging  _ Good work, kid  _ from the Captain. Pete jumped to his feet from where he had been vibrating in Precinct One’s waiting room and ran over to envelop his boyfriend in a hug. 

 

“You’re okay, you’re okay right? Did they have a doctor look at you, oh my gosh do you need to like go to a hospital or something, I can--”

 

“ _ Pete.”  _ Patrick shook his head, shaking him a little to stop the torrent of panic. “I’m fine, just super hungry. Can we go get something to eat and I’ll...explain?” 

 

Nodding, Pete looked over at Andy, who had been waiting with the stalwart patience of a weathered seamast through the storm of his anxiety. Suddenly realizing he hadn’t thought to say thank you or I’m sorry or anything, he felt shame wash over him...but like all good partners, Andy got it.

 

“Is your car still at the coffee shop, Patrick?” Andy asked as he stood. 

 

A warm hand slipped into his own, and for the first time since he’d left his sandwich forgotten on his desk, Pete felt his heart unclench as Patrick answered. “Yep, unless someone towed it.” 

 

“Well let’s go, I’ll drop you off.”

 

~//~

 

They handed their menus to the waitress and Pete squared his shoulders and fixed Patrick with his best Detective look. “Okay. No more excuses, Andy’s gone, you’ve ordered food, gotten something to drink  _ and _ called your mom to tell her you’re alright. So  _ what the fuck happened?” _

 

Twirling the paper napkin-ring around nervously, Patrick’s eyes darted up to meet his before fixing back on his hands. “I’m guessing you saw the video?” 

 

“Yeah, and I don’t fucking get how you didn’t get shot. He was aiming  _ right for you.  _ Not to mention how you convinced him to let the rest of the hostages out in the first place!” Pete didn’t fucking understand it, the desk Sergeant had showed him the grainy security footage of Patrick talking earnestly to the gunman, who subsequently motioned for all the hostages to leave, except for  _ his boyfriend _ . What made even less sense was Patrick inching forward with his hands up, throwing the world’s  _ wimpiest _ punch and down the guy goes like a sack of potatoes. 

 

“Would you believe me if I told you I’d been working out?” Patrick asked, grimacing as Pete shook his head adamantly.

 

“Nope, so--” He stopped as the waitress set down their drinks, watching Patrick thank her like she had handed him the crown jewels. Taking a deep gulp of his water, he pointed a finger at the table’s only other occupant. “Just stop with the bullshit and tell me  _ what the fuck happened!” _

 

For a long moment, Patrick didn’t say anything, just cradled his hot chocolate between his hands and stared at the slowly-melting mountain of whipped cream. 

 

“Just hear me out before you freak out, okay?” Nodding, Pete mimed zipping his lips and Patrick sighed. “So, a lot of the stuff you see or hear about myths is wildly exaggerated...there was no Babe the Blue Moose and Bigfoot isn’t real. But uh...one of the things that isn’t made up are...Fairies?” He said it like a question, and Pete opened his mouth to cut him down and say something like  _ this isn’t the time for fucking stupid jokes about pixie dust _ , but Patrick held up a hand. “Anyways, they  _ are _ real and one of the things Fairies can do is...Charmspeak?”

 

“What the hell is that? And what does this all have to do with what happened?!” 

 

“My Dad’s part Fairy...so...if I speak a certain way, I can make people do anything I want.” Patrick ducked his head like he was ashamed and held his hands out pleadingly. “I know it sounds crazy, and I’ve only done it like three times in my whole life, I swear! I was just waiting for my coffee and the guy came in, shooting in the air and it was so terrifying and there was this little girl who had come over by me to get a packet of sugar so I grabbed her and put her behind me. The guy, he was ranting and raving about something, so I just...it took a while to get everyone calmed down, and by that time the police were there. So I told him that he needed to let everyone go, but I knew that if I left he might do something crazy like run out and try to shoot at you guys, and then when I saw you I knew I couldn't take the chance. So I stayed and told him that he wasn’t going to shoot me, I got close and took a swing at him at the same time I told him to forget everything and go to sleep and...that was it.” 

 

Pete knew he was staring, knew his mouth was hanging open, but he didn’t care. The waitress brought over their food and he was _still_ staring as he tried to wrap his brain around it all...that his _Art Professor_ _boyfriend_ was part _Fairy_ and had just successfully defused a hostage situation by _talking._

 

“So you’re not only expecting me to believe that Fairies-- _ Fairies-- _ are real, but also that you can tell people to do crazy things and they’ll do them?” 

 

Sighing, Patrick ran a hand over his face, mumbling under his breath that he was an asshole before squaring his shoulders and looking Pete in the eye. “Take the salt and shake it on your head.”

 

Later, he would spend a healthy amount of time trying to figure out exactly what was different in Patrick’s voice. It wasn’t necessarily  _ deeper _ , there wasn’t really any change in his tone or inflection. But somehow, it was  _ more _ , it was bigger like it was echoing off the edges of the words and refracting back to them magnified with a sparkling, glassy  _ power _ . But like it was the most natural thing, he found himself picking up the salt shaker and holding it dutifully above his head, shaking vigorously. 

 

“Stop.”

 

Pete obeyed, setting it down and shaking his head like he was trying to clear water from his ears. He couldn't explain the feeling--he distinctly remembered Patrick saying to do it and he remembered the sudden desire to  _ obey _ . There had been no outward compulsion, just like  _ he _ suddenly  _ really wanted _ to shake salt on his head. Running his hand through his hair to get the grains out, he fixed a guilty-looking Patrick with a confused stare. “Do it again.” 

 

He glared and pursed his lips in response, ordering him to try to lick his nose and letting him try like an idiot for a solid minute before telling him to stop. Cocking his head to the side, Pete wiped the spit off his upper lip, and rubbed his neck absently. 

 

“You realize that this is like...crazy, right?” Patrick nodded miserably, looking at him like he had just admitted to liking tentacle porn or hating Star Wars. 

 

“I know. I didn’t…I’ve never told anyone I’ve been with before, and I didn’t know  _ how  _ to tell you.”  He slumped and fiddled with his plate before looking up at Pete with eyes that shone with unshed tears. “I didn’t want to lose you.” 

 

Pete couldn’t help it then. He  _ wanted _ to be angry, he wanted to bang his fist on the table and demand that Patrick stop pulling his leg and tell him what  _ really _ happened and stop fucking with him, he wanted to roll his eyes and scoff that Fairies weren’t any more real than Jedi or Santa Claus, but he  _ couldn’t. _ He slid from the table and for a split second, Patrick’s face betrayed shock and fear as he sucked in a sudden breath that  _ this was it. _ But then Pete tumbled next to him on the booth and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him and feeling him warm and solid and safe...and that was what mattered. He decided in that moment that, hey, maybe Fairies were real, he’d certainly never felt like shaking salt on his head before after all...but it didn’t matter. Because  _ Patrick _ was what mattered. 

 

“I thought the weirdest thing you were going to tell me was that you had a daddy kink or something.” 

 

Patrick sputtered against him, pulling back as he flushed bright red and shook his head. “Definitely  _ not _ .” 

 

He couldn’t help himself, the adrenaline of the day and the sudden dropping confusion of seemingly-suspended belief making him needy. Cupping Patrick’s cheeks in his hands, he pressed a kiss to his lips, hoping it said all the things that he couldn't figure out how to say himself.

 

“You realize I’m going to have  _ so many questions.”  _ He said a long moment later as he slid back to his side of the booth, picking up his fork and grinning in gratification at the color staining Patrick’s cheeks and the decided increase in his breathing. “Starting with does this mean the Tooth Fairy is real?” 

 

Patrick shook his head as he dipped a fry in the side of thousand island, a rueful smile on his face. He slid his hand, palm up, across the table and Pete took it--warm and wonderful and perfect--and smiled back.

  
  
  



	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I blame Shattered_mirrors_and_lace!!!! *laughs* Just some cuteness =)

 

“Is that how you get your students to pay attention to you when you’re droning on and on about Mixed Media?” 

 

“No, I actually  _ teach _ , thank you very much.” Patrick was laying on his back, creamy chest on display with the covers pulled up to his waist, while Pete was naked and uncaring on his side tracing absent patterns on his skin. 

 

“Okay, but is that how you got that waiter at the bar to put extra beer cheese sauce on the nachos? ‘Cause you know they’ve said no every time I asked.”

 

A huff of laughter escaped his lips as he shook his head, fair hair falling in his eyes. “There are things called  _ manners, _ Pete....I used them and this magical word handed down from Fairy to Fairy over generations called  _ Please.”  _

 

“Whatever.” Pete considered the past six months, trying to think…”Does it work on inanimate objects? Like could you talk your student’s pottery projects into not exploding in the kiln?” 

 

“If I could do that, I probably wouldn’t still be an art professor...I’d be a world-famous artist bending clay to my will.” Patrick reached up and tugged at Pete’s hand, pulling him close and running his fingers through his hair soothingly. They were silent for a few moments, enjoying the feel of conditioned air over heated skin before Pete’s head jerked out of his reach as he reared back to look him in the eyes.

 

“What about last week when you told me you got that free carton of ice cream?” 

 

“Nope. I had a coupon.” 

 

“Damn.” Pete laid his head back down for a moment, starting to pull back up but Patrick had caught on, holding it in place with the hand in his hair. “Did you just Charmspeak me into having sex with you?” 

 

“Seriously, that’s the fourth time you’ve asked me that. I’ve  _ never _ made you do anything you didn’t want me to do. Besides, I don’t need to charm you into anything, you’re ridiculously irresistible and you know it.” 

 

Pete made a noise of assent, fingers resuming their motion against Patrick’s pale skin as he wondered if it was a Fairy thing to be so pale….but then a thought occurred to him. “Wait, you said you’ve never done anything I didn’t want, not that you’ve never used it on me.” He pushed out of Patrick’s grip and held himself up over his body, watching the flush work its way down his cheeks and spread across his chest. “What did you do?” 

 

“It’s not--” Patrick’s eyes flitted up to his as he bit his lower lip between his teeth, worrying it for a long moment as Pete’s mind started to make up all sorts of unlikely scenarios. “Remember you told me that one day that you wished something could take away your nightmares?” 

 

Pete nodded, thinking back to the time in the grey pre-dawn light that he had woken to Patrick shaking him awake, tears on his cheeks as he gasped for breath from the terror of his dream. He had clung to Patrick like a lifeline, letting him soothe away the worst of it with tender kisses to his temples and calmingly-whispered nonsense. “Yeah, so?” 

 

“After that I--” Patrick’s eyes darted up to his, one hand coming up to twine around his locked elbow gently. “--I started using it to calm you down when you would start crying in your sleep. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t  _ not _ after you said you wished there was a way to stop them….” 

 

His mind flashed back to how many less nightmares he’d had since they had been together--before he had attributed it to someone next to him, to the peace that Patrick would make him feel as he drifted off, or even just to being worn out from mind-blowingly amazing sex...but now it made sense. “You did that for me? Really?” Patrick nodded and Pete let out a breath, ducking down to press a deep kiss to full, plump lips he never thought he’d get enough of kissing.

 

“I’d never make you do anything, I’d never do that to you, promise.” Patrick murmured a long moment afterwards, and Pete found that he didn’t question that statement, he didn’t need to.

 

“I know.” He laid back down and snuggled close, taking Patrick’s hand. “I’m so fucking glad nothing happened to you today. I don’t know what I would have done.” Patrick squeezed gently, reassuring him as a thought occured. “See. aren’t you glad I made you install that app? Otherwise I wouldn’t have known where you were, I told you all that security stuff is important.” 

 

“I’m just going to point out that I’m the one that diffused a hostage situation today.” Patrick pointed out, and Pete shook his head. 

 

“Nope, that just means that I’m  _ totally _ giving you a police escort to work for at least the next five years.” 

 

“I swear to God…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Notes, comments, concrit, hatred and kudos are greatly appreciated!!


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